


Practice Post

by supercleo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Demon Blood, Demon Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-11-28 16:09:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20969330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercleo/pseuds/supercleo
Summary: This is just a practice post to see how AO3 works ft. my current draft xoxo





	1. Chapter 1

“I think it’s time for a regime change,” Dean says to Crowley, and promptly stabs him.

Being a Knight of Hell was easy, much easier than Dean would have thought. Or maybe it just came naturally to him from his time in Hell. Maybe the Pit recognised its own design etched into every cell of Dean’s body when he was destroyed and remade endlessly by Alastair. But all that is behind him now; now Hell will bend to him and to him alone.  


Dean hadn’t realised how utterly freeing being a demon could be, giving in to every inhibition and desire that took his fancy instead of the decades of practised repression since leaving Hell. Stopping himself from tearing demons apart with his bare hands and the knife he earned from Alastair. Only Cas knew that for as many nightmares he had about Hell, he had just as many dreams longing to be back.

Surveying his kingdom-to-be, he takes in the dark walls and the long stone tables and is struck by the thought that Crowley would have enjoyed his reign much more thoroughly had he designed the place with an interior decorator present. Dean will not be making that mistake. If he intends to rule Hell – and he does – it will be in style.  
First things first, though. He needs a plan.

Disposing of what remains of Crowley’s vessel (corpse complete with vivisection, castration and set on fire – one can never be too sure with Crowley, Ruby’s knife notwithstanding, if anyone could crawl back to life from that it would be him), Dean set out to close the gates of Hell.


	2. Chapter 2

Dragging the blade against the soft flesh of his new victim’s pale stomach, Dean contemplated how he resisted this during his time on Earth. The feeling of carving up this woman’s insides, carefully pulling out her spleen while listening to her screams— there was so much he wanted to do to her. Piling the remains of her organs on the table beside him, Dean wiped his bloody hands on his jeans. While he knew he was an expert and he surpassed Alastair in both skill and creativity, he felt that something was missing from this piece. 

Turning her onto her front, Dean sliced through the skin down her spine and, reaching in, he snapped each rib individually before completely opening her up. Attaching her ribs to the restraints, he had a clear view of her lungs, still pulsing as if breathing imaginary air. Gently cradling them, he poked a hole in the left side and opened it wide enough to fit a straw through. Inserting the funnel into her lung, he poured the last batch of the blood he had just drained from the pile of meatsuits on surrounding his feet. 

Tracking the convulsions of her lungs as they filled up with demon blood, he placed the full lungs back into her body and sewed up the hole so no blood could escape and--. The more erotic element of his work was getting to him. 

Tossing his knife absently as he surveyed his work, he realised with startling clarity what was missing. He really had been human for too long. His design was meant for an angel. It was evident how much he needed to work through his hatred for Metatron.

While he had been informed by his new demon minions that the King of Hell had no need to be doing dirty work in the Pit, Dean realised how much he missed the creative torture of the rack. And, hey, getting dirty is what being a demon is all about, right? 

Leaving his work in the Pit for the newer recruits to admire, Dean called his new lieutenants to meet him in the Throne Room; it’s time for a gratuitous display of violence to assert his authority – not that Hell was not suitably cowed by a Knight becoming King, let alone the almost-legendary Dean Winchester taking the throne. He likes the sound of being a demon ghost story to make them behave themselves. 

As the more competent demons entered the room, Dean cleared his throat. He had handpicked a team of the most ruthless and intelligent demons in Hell, at least three of them he and Sam had fought before and had the good sense to leave the fight before they were killed, as well as his team of lieutenants. So far, Leo was his favourite and had given him the excellent idea of breaking human souls himself to create them in his own image. Complete loyalty would only be a side bonus to the main attraction of having a personal army completely devoted and/or infatuated with him; Leo wasn’t completely clear on which. Similarly, Alicia was merciless, over and above the general requirements of demonic personality traits, as well as being surprisingly creative when it comes to torture. Third was Henry, who seemed to be much more content devising schemes and operations but was surprisingly talented in a fight. Last but certainly not least, Dean had searched high and low to find the one and only Bela Talbot. She hasn’t changed too much since he last saw her, despite it being around 7 years on Earth and well over one thousand in Hell. Her intelligence, cruelty and utter lack of morals had been very beneficial in Hell and had let her become incredibly powerful but very well hidden. The glint in her eyes as she pledged her allegiance to him was refreshing; he was very much looking forward to seeing what she could do in the field. 

“Okay, kiddos, I need a list of any deserters or demons who aren’t loyal to my rule.” The demons tensed at his deceptively casual tone. If he was going to rule, he was going to do it right. 

“Leo, infiltrate the lower ranks and you have my full permission to torture and execute any non-believer at your discretion.” 

Dean had changed the dark stone walls and grimy corridors to a palace more suited to his tastes. If it looks uncannily similar to a hotel Dad took him and Sam to when they were very young and working a high-profile case, then that’s his business and nobody else’s. Not that anybody would dispute the design choices of the King of Hell. The high ceilings and white walls make for perfect sound quality – or maybe that’s just his new and enhanced senses working their magic – that lets Dean hear Leo’s exhale of breath as he starts thinking about the creative license he has just been given. 

“Alicia and Henry, spread the word of the new King. I’ll be doing a few demonstrations of my power in public later on, but I need the idiots to have high expectations. Instil as much fear as you deem necessary.” Dealing with demons was getting easier by the minute. Just entice them with a bit of torture and they’re ready and raring to go. 

Dean felt a flash of pride as the demons immediately exited with a Yes, Sir and went, presumably, to their tasks. 

Now it was time for his most important task. Bela stood at attention in poorly concealed disgust, her brows lowered but the ever-present smirk still half present (how she managed to keep the same body after almost eight thousand years in Hell, he’ll never know (or ask, for that matter)). (Despite this, when he first found her in the depths of Hell she was over the fucking moon. “I always knew you could do it. From the very first time I heard your name spoken in Hell. I knew you’d make the bastards kneel. Thank fucking God you’re King; everybody hated Crowley down here.”) 

“Alright, Bela. First things first, have your opinions on demons changed at all in the last few thousand years or so?” Dean asked, half knowing the answer already but wanting to hear her say it. 

“Christ do you even need to ask? I loathe them, the slimy bastards.” Her lips had turned up in an unconscious sneer. “Why? What are you planning?” 

Well, here it goes. “I’m going to close the gates of Hell.” Dean said, meeting her gaze. 

The unobservant would never have seen a change in expression, but to Dean he could tell from the slight raise of her eyebrows and just-about controlled eye widening that she was surprised as hell, if one could excuse the pun. 

“And how, pray tell, are you going to manage that?” She said, managing to restrain herself to a slightly sardonic tone. 

Dean smiled slowly. “There are three trials you need to complete…” 

And so it begins. 

*** 

“The stocks of souls have increased tenfold, Mr Winchester, but to keep this growth at a steady rate we’ll need to increase the number of contracts by 16.79% over the course of the next two thousand years--” 

“Okay, okay. Enough of the sales pitch,” Dean interrupted as the demon salesman team droned on about statistics and contracts and wow, he was really starting to understand why Crowley hated Hell so much. “How long will it take to gain, say, one million souls?” 

Head Salesman #1 opened his mouth. 

“Just give me a number, nothing else.” Dean interjected, looking at the wide eyes of the sales team as he flashed them his most threatening smile. 

“Um, a million souls? That would take about 5 human years, Mr Winchester, sir.” 

“And how about, hypothetically speaking, one hundred million souls?” 

The sales team exchanged glances and chuckled nervously. 

“Uh, Your Majesty, it took the whole of Crowley’s rule to gain even ten million souls, and he had Lilith’s stores on top of that.” 

“An answer, if you please.” Dean said, twirling the First Blade. He’s noticed that bringing it into meetings has the refreshing effect of getting him answers quickly. 

“Maybe a few human centuries? But you really must understand—” 

“Meeting over. Return to your duties.” 

“Uh. What duties, my liege?” 

“Oh. Torture? Maiming? Wreaking general havoc? Do you need instructions to wipe your ass next?” 

The demons looked suitably cowed as they scuttled out of the room. Dean was really getting the hang of this ruler shtick. More to the point though, five centuries? As he flipped through his options, he realised that even if deal making tripled, it would still take centuries to gain this many souls. There was no way he could wait that long if he wanted to be secure in his rule of Hell. 

Leo had reported that a large group of former Crowley loyalists were plotting some sort of uprising and for his plan to work, Dean needed to be strong and, more importantly, secure in his rule. Unfortunately that meant human souls. Large, large quantities of human souls. It’s a damn good thing Dean’s newfound demonism has taken care of that pesky problem of morality. 

For the first time in six months, Dean Winchester – former human, demon, Knight, and now King of Hell – decided he needed some outside help.


End file.
